Roles to Play
by ShelleyHG
Summary: Megamind decides that it would be easier to sort through new-hero problems while roleplaying as the old Bernard / Roxanne dream team. Roxanne misinterprets his intent, and launches into an entirely different type of roleplay instead. Post-canon. Very smutty, mild cursing, some hijinks. Don't copy to another site.


Megamind slunk back into the lair so quietly that neither Minion nor the buzzing swarm of paper-pushing brainbots noticed him. Roxanne wasn't here, which meant that she was still out doing the nightly news. That gave him a small window of time to figure out just how he was going to face her after his disastrous night of heroics. He needed to maximize his time, and that meant getting into the right mindset, and the right mindset required the right outfit.

"Brainbots!" he shouted, and they all snapped to face him. "Outfit code: BR-D!" Eager to obey, they dropped current task – literally – releasing a shower of papers in the air as they hovered off.

Unbothered by the chaos, Minion called out cheerfully, "Welcome home, sir!" as his gorilla body leapt around catching the fluttering documents. "You're home early. Did you have a good patrol?"

"It was… oh, you know..." Megamind said, waving his hands and struggling to give a substantial answer. He was rescued from proper elaboration when the brainbots returned with the requested outfit: his darkest and drabbest day clothes. That alone was enough for Minion to zero right in.

The fish gasped, "Charcoal grey pants, athletic heather hoodie, dark-as-night eyeliner? Not your brooding outfit, sir!" Minion dropped the paper collection to rush to his side and attempt to offer comfort.

Megamind lowered his voice dramatically. "It was a... long night," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Sounds extremely gritty, sir." said Minion sympathetically backing off, "If you need anything, even a shoulder to cry on," he said as he mimicked removing his robotic arm and shoulder, "I'm always here."

Megamind flopped into his massive cushioned control chair. "Of course, Minion," he said, "I simply need to brood." He closed his eyes and rested his head on a propped-up fist. It was only once he started to return to his task that he opened his eyes halfway. "Although," he added, "some food might help. Enough for two, of course."

"Oh, of course! Yes, sir!" Minion started eagerly towards the kitchen, but then stopped and swiveled suddenly, "Okay, but 'food' is a little vague. Let's go over some options..."

Megamind stifled his grimace, nodding politely at the listed options, but wasn't actually paying attention. The last thing he wanted right now was impassioned theoretical debates comparing arugula to artichokes. But then again, 'make food,' was the only directive he had given Minion to help, and it wasn't fair to blame the fish for wanting to get it right.

Suddenly, Megamind realized he'd almost missed the tail end of a question, "… so those are the potential social and culinary benefits of having a breakfast versus a dinner in the late-night-slash-early-morning timeframe," Minion concluded, holding several fingers up in each hand. "Which would you prefer I make?" He grinned.

Megamind shrugged into his chair, letting gravity emphasize his ennui, "Both, I suppose."

The fish's jaw dropped, "Both, sir?"

Oops. He hadn't accounted for how closely ennui read as apathy. Well, this one was an easy recovery. Megamind straightened his pose and gave what he hoped was a thoughtful smile, "You've convinced me of the merits of both, Minion. So both it shall be. Thank… thank you."

The fish glanced around in his bubble. "Both," he muttered, but then his voice climbed an octave, "Ohhhh!" The gorilla body swung around towards the kitchen while the fish kept facing him. "I know just how to accomplish both, sir! I'll make you a dinner that only _looks_ like a breakfast. Oh, the whimsy will cheer you right up!" The exiting gorilla body slammed clumsily into the door frame, denting it ever so slightly.

Megamind bolted straight up, "That's it! Minion, you're my perpetual inspiration!"

"I live to inspire!" Minion shouted as the gorilla body made it through to the kitchen on its second attempt, followed by the sounds of juggled crockery, rattling glasses, and slammed cupboards, punctuated by the hiss of an opening icebox.

Still in his chair, Megamind rolled away from the controls and towards his storage drawers, yanking them opening and tossing various contents into the air. A swarm of brainbots caught the discards, waiting patiently for orders on whether the items would be returned or incinerated.

He shouted in manic glee as he tore through the drawers. "Useless!" he shouted, tossing aside a box of remotes, "Obsolete," he muttered, throwing aside an expired stud polishing kit, "Junk!" he declared, throwing a double-shielded vial of actinide antimatter, before he finally found his prize at the bottom of a middle drawer. "Aha!" he cried, fishing out a cardboard box labeled Code: BERNARD.

"I hope she still recognizes this number," he said, grinning wildly as he pulled out an old silver flip-phone. The screen was black, and the machine refused to boot up, even after several hearty shakes. It was out of charge, he realized, and it hadn't come with a charger when he'd originally obtained it. Well, now this was an engineering problem he could easily solve!

He practically cackled with delight, "Looks like that antimatter isn't junk after all. Brainbots! Give me the vial! Return the rest." They mechanically barked an affirmative, but their actual movements were slow and sullen. What dramatic, sulky bots. "Ohhh, don't worry," he cooed, "Daddy promises to find you something to incinerate soon. Yes, he does." They waggled excitedly.

He glanced around at the mess of papers. "Clean these up, and maybe, if you're good, we'll incinerate them later," he offered, and they rushed over each other in their haste to obey. "Maybe!" he emphasized, but that was still enough of a promise to perk them up.

He turned his attention back to the cell phone repair. It had to be quick; Roxanne would be here soon. Megamind's long fingers moved like blue lightning: measuring, welding, and wiring together a replacement battery with the antimatter fuel source. When he finally snapped the case back together, the phone had a sickly yellow glow and a battery life that would outlive the sun. Overkill, sure, but why ever do things halfway?

He flipped it open and tapped numbers and letters quickly.

"_Would Bernard be an acceptable disguise tonight?_"

It didn't take him very long to get a succession of confused responses.

_"Why?"_

Then

_"Is this a weird ruse? It feels like a ruse."_

And then,

_"I like you as you are, you know."_

Megamind chuckled, "Oh, and who doesn't?" before quickly texting back,

_"Bernard makes a better partner, that's all."_

He rolled his eyes at his own ambiguous wording and quickly clarified,

_"For investigating Megamind, that is!"_

Now, that should clear up his intent!

Roxanne's phone indicated several edited attempts at a reply before one finally came through,

_"Together, we'll figure out his plan."_

And then a quick follow-up,

"_(_ _Nice roleplay idea :D )_"

Megamind nodded sagely. "Yes, we do all have our roles to play, don't we," he said as he tweaked his disguise watch and pulled out a few extra props from the Code: BERNARD box.

Bursting from out the kitchen in a flurry of haste and stacked-up table settings, Minion threw down a tablecloth and before it had even settled was putting down candles, dishes and silverware. The fish shouted, "Don't look yet!" before hurrying back off into the kitchen. An easy enough directive, Megamind was trying to perfect his appearance.

He instinctually slicked back his eyebrows, a move which would have improved his real self more than it did the Bernard illusion, but there was still a disarming charm to the tidied up business casual dweeb. Just one final puff of cologne to complete the illusion, and he melted into the role.

No longer was he Megamind, the reformed-and-brooding hero, but Bernard, an invitingly normal, regular human. Just in time, because the perimeter monitors displayed Roxanne's arrival. She was wearing her tight purple dress with silky frills paired with dark black shoes. He caught a candid moment of her gathering her nerves with a quick, centering breath before phasing through the secret entrance.

"Hello?" called Roxanne from the foyer, "Bernard, you here?" She walked in, setting her hands confidently on her hips as she caught sight of the illusioned Megamind. "Good. You've already infiltrated with me, now we just need to explore together." She slugged his shoulder, "I can't wait for the dream team to figure out just what makes that villain tick."

Bernard rubbed his arm. Well, the enthusiasm was encouraging, but her approach was much more lighthearted than what he'd been trying to set up. That said, the temptation to banter back was too strong an instinct to ignore. He shook his head in mock regret, "That sounds like the sort of mystery that might keep the both of us up all night long."

She responded with a wink, "I'm okay with an overnight investigation, if you are."

He blushed as he realized exactly the direction and distance with which he had just escalated their banter. Curse his penchant for quick-witted repartee. But then again, it wasn't just the flirty lines. She had shown up especially put together : gorgeous outfit, flawless makeup, sweet perfume. And now she was breaking out verbal swordplay? Bernard smiled. He could always brood later, right? But there was still the matter of eating dinner first. He gave a calming smile, "How about a smaller mystery for us to cut our teeth on first?" he asked gesturing at the fully set, but still foodless table.

Roxanne nodded in appreciation at the setup. "You asking me out for a team-up on the case of the missing meal?"

"Yes." He said, in his most charming voice while leading her to her chair before claiming his own. "Devilishly difficult mystery, that one. Would you care to join me in delving its…" but he was interrupted.

Roxanne shouted out her solution, "Minion? You're the one cooking, right?"

From the kitchen came a delighted, "Yes, Miss Ritchie! And it's allllmmmmooostt! Alllllmoooostttt!" he drew the words out before exclaiming, "There! The perfect temperature!" and then burst in carrying a tray, "For the sir and madam, pancake-shaped meatloaf with hashbrown-shaped baked potaAAUGGHH…." Minion dropped the tray on the table and pointed at the Bernard illusion, "Intruder!" He fumbled for the Forget-Me-Stick, brandishing it menacingly. "Who even are you!? Why are you stealing this whimsical dinner?!"

"And you Miss Ritchie!" His voice cracked with disbelief, "Romantic betrayal in his very lair?"

Roxanne covered her bemused smile, "Another mystery: the case of the forgetful Minion. I believe I have the solution, but Bernard? Would you do the honors?" In response, Bernard rolled his eyes, grabbed his watch with an exaggerated gesture, and flicked it to reveal a nonplussed Megamind in tan slacks, blue turtleneck, and tweed jacket. "Really Minion," he said, "You don't remember this old disguise?" he asked as he twisted the watch back with a pointed _ta-da_ gesture.

Minion's arms lowered to his side in relief, "Oh, of course! I'd almost forgotten 'Bernard.' Ah, memories…" he chuckled knowingly, "You know the real Bernard has trouble forming them now." He shrugged, hefting the Forget-Me-Stick back into its holster. "Guess this thing's a bit too powerful, eh? Anyway, you two have a wonderful dinner-breakfast! I'm off to do laundry."

Bernard turned to Roxanne as if to shrug off Minion's ridiculous behavior, but was surprised to find Roxanne smirking at him with the strength of an actinide antimatter battery. What on earth was she so cocky about? Well, maybe he didn't know, but he definitely wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of asking her directly. He had to stall. "Care for some… orange juice?" he ventured a guess at the identity of a liquid in a shared jug as he poured them both glasses.

Roxanne took a tentative sip. "Huh, it's literally just champagne. I would have expected a mimosa, given the presentation and theme. But then again," she took another sip. "All the food is one thing pretending to be another." She tipped her glass towards him, "You're the only one who seems to be doing any actual combining."

Her tipping her glass was clearly supposed to emphasize her tipping her hand, but he still didn't quite follow what she was teasing about. He'd have to lure her into revealing information. "Why, whatever do you mean?" he asked coyly.

Roxanne leaned back. "I think you're naked under there and that you were planning to surprise me," she said. "That's why you kept Bernard's clothes on when you 'dropped the illusion.' Because if you hadn't done that, you'd just appear as a naked Megamind." She tossed back a gulp of champagne. "I think I'm three for three on solving mysteries tonight."

She was so wrong he had to bite his lower lip to stifle the laugh. Nothing made him giddier than pulling one over on Roxanne, and he'd take an unexpected victory just as happily as a planned one. He leaned back as nonchalantly as he could manage, slowly sipping his own orange-colored champagne. "And what if I told you the truth was stranger?" he asked with an eyebrow raise.

Roxanne's smug grin faded as she shook her head in confusion. She looked him up and down and slowly ventured, "Do you mean to tell me that… what? You're actually wearing _both_ an illusory Bernard outfit, and a physical Bernard outfit?" She tilted her head curiously, "What on earth would that get you?"

"Well," he started, "I had been thinking a lot about my uh, final night as Bernard and how things went haywire." She nodded knowingly as he continued, "And I wanted to get back into that pre-haywire mindset, so I recreated everything. The illusory outfit and the prop double. Just like that night."

Roxanne's eyes widened as she mentally pulled together the threads of information he was feeding her. "Let me get this straight. That night, you wore a set of real clothes so that when – or if – they got removed, they wouldn't break the illusion?" She set down her drink, "How presumptuous of you," but then she shrugged and revealed a smile. "But you've got me dead to rights. I did have… plans, for us, for that night."

"Oh?" he startled softly as a shiver of delight went up his spine. Bernard stroked his hairless chin with a feigned aloofness. "As a gentleman, I of course had my own plans for that evening, but please, would you care to elaborate further?"

Roxanne wiggled in her chair and held up a single finger, "First step: make you squirm," she laid out, "I was gonna tell you, probably whisper in your ear, that I hoped we'd need the condoms in my purse."

Bernard's face flushed at the thought of being trapped in a restaurant with _that_ knowledge all throughout dinner. What kind of monster dangles something like that over a person who has no reasonable chance of escape? And especially when… "It was a tiny plates restaurant!" he responded as soon as he remembered.

Roxanne steepled her fingers and leaned in, "You don't think I chose that just because they're trendy, do you?"

Wow. Credit where it was due. "And people called me evil," he said with a shiver.

Roxie laughed, "Well, not totally. I honestly just wanted to see how many plates you'd get through before calling the meal short. I had my money on five."

Well, now that's unfair. He was certain he could have gotten to at least six. But it would have been a very impatient six. He could feel his heat rising just thinking about how especially difficult Roxanne would have made it with her merciless flirting.

She continued, a gleam in her eye, "Second: I would have driven you home. My place, of course, and I'd be teasing you all the way."

This part of her plan seemed much less plausible. "Oh, and how would you do that in the car while driving? Raunchy radio stations? Gratuitous gear shifting?"

She continued coolly, "While I was driving, I'd have slowly hiked up my dress so you could see my panties. White and lacy." It was a subtle movement, but she also actually moved her hand over her thigh and pulled her dress back just enough to draw his focus, and then suddenly all he could think about was how much he wanted to push apart her legs. He shifted around in his chair as the movement had its desired effect. He caught Roxie's satisfaction at witnessing him adjusting himself.

"Granted, it's extremely villainous," he conceded before pressing for more details, "but what would you hope to gain from all of this torture?"

She effortlessly monologued her plan for his demise. "I'd catch you anxiously trying to hide your erection and just reach over and stroke your thigh. We wouldn't be able to escalate until the next red light, when we'd kiss so hard we'd almost miss the light change. During the elevator ride up to my apartment you'd press me hard against the wall in a sloppy, passionate kiss."

She paused, and he recognized an opening for his own contribution. But they were beyond witty banter. He needed to fight fire with fire.

Bernard closed his eyes in visualization. "In that elevator ride, I would have pressed against you, stroked your hair, stroked your face, kissed your neck, and your chest. Slipped my tongue into your mouth and thought about how much I wanted to slip my tongue elsewhere." When he opened his eyes again, he caught that Roxie had uncrossed her legs, leaving a slight gap between them. White underwear, same as her narration. She grinned at successfully having pulled away his attention again.

"You unrelenting temptress," he said, his eyes darting up and down. "What was the next step, in your fiendish plot?"

"Well, this next part's a bit visual," she said, standing up and walking slowly towards him. Her dress slunk back down, and kept slinking down until it was nothing but a puddle of silk on the floor. Roxie was left with nothing but her white thong pulled high and tan bra pressed tight against her breasts.

"We'd barely make it inside my apartment, but definitely not make it all the way back to the bedroom. I'd lead you into the nearest chair. Something sort of like this one," she said, gesturing to his chair. As she continued, her actions mirrored her narration, "and then sit on your lap, wrap my arms around your shoulders, and press myself against your erection."

He leaned into the contact, enjoying feeling her warm bare skin pressing into him so eagerly. He loved just how much she wanted him, and he was going to make sure she understood just how much he wanted her, too. "I would have kissed you, from your neck to your chest, down to your waist," he said, moving his lips to match, enjoying how much she quivered at his touch, "and I would have fondled you, caressing your breasts," he said, bringing his hands to up cup her chest, then looked to her pleadingly, "and then asked you for permission to undo your bra." He moved his hands back behind her and waited.

Roxie paused, and pulled him in to whisper, "You think I'd let myself get more undressed before you removed a single stitch? I would have shimmied you out of your stuffy clothes," she grabbed for his tweed jacket, struggling to get the arms out, then hitched her hands up and around his blue sweater while Bernard kicked off his bookish brogues. "I was dying to see what was underneath that blue turtleneck," she said. "I'm doubly curious now," Once they were off, she traced her fingers against his form and admired the visual: a completely hairless chest with tight but light definition. The face may have been borrowed, but the body was all his. She growled as she handled him, eager for more.

Roxie giggled as her hands traveled lower and unzipped his pants. "You know, I don't think the lack of chest hair would have even tipped me off; after all, Bernard struck me as the kinda guy who liked to swim laps." She pulled back the waistline of his underwear to catch a peek at his erection against his tightly-manicured hourglass-shaped pubic hair and shook her head knowingly. "But, I think that specific styling might have been a bit of a giveaway," she teased before releasing the underwear and helping him snake down his pants.

As she moved to slide back onto his lap, Bernard surprised her by reaching down to catch a peek into her own underwear, demonstrating for the both of them her own matching hair sculpt. "Then what does this give away about you?" he asked, reveling in his victory as he released her back into his lap.

"That I know how to stroke your… ego," she quipped, tracing her fingertips down along his V.

"Not just yet." He halted her attempt. "We had a deal," he said, pulling her closer instead, his fingers easily unhooking and pulling away her bra. Now with better access, he traced slow circles around her nipples, and then teased them directly, causing Roxie to shiver with pleasure. He escalated with licks and kisses, and she responded by grabbing him close and gently rocking her hips. Absent-mindedly, she ran her fingers through Bernard's 'hair' then marveled at the contact, "Oh wow… just like… like real hair," she barely managed to get out between gasps.

Bernard grinned evilly at how thoroughly he'd derailed her monologue to the point where she was having difficulty even speaking. He wanted to taunt her without giving her any chance to regain her composure. He licked his fingers on one hand and then reached into her panties to stroke her clit while whispering into her ear, "You dropped off a bit. What was the next step in your plan? Pull out my cock and suck me?" he asked, playing with both her nipples and her clit while she moved against him with more speed, "Torture me further by bringing me to the brink and then pulling away?" He demanded to know.

Her answer was breathy and halting, "Mahh .. may… be." It was a foolish thing to admit, but he admired her honesty. Still, he couldn't let that stand.

"So predictable," he chided, "What if I turned your plan against you?"

"Please… please…" she begged.

He pulled down her panties to give himself more space and moved his fingers to penetrate her while keeping his thumb stroking against her clit. His fingers moved with speed and precision as he kept pace with the rhythm she set with her hips. While licking her nipples, he changed his thumb movements to her favorite rolling pattern, and she raked her fingers against his back in response. He played with her until she grabbed at him tightly and desperately, her breath short and her muscles tense. She was so close to coming, and it would be so easy to stop right now and deny her the orgasm. "But I would never," he whispered, as he made her come. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, dug her nails hard into her back, and he felt her come hard and wet against his hand.

After she regained her breath, she opened her eyes. "That was… so fast," she gasped.

"Too fast? Did I spoil your plans?" he asked with a goading eyebrow raise.

Slowly, as her faculties returned, so did her banter, "You think I… I didn't have contingencies?" she said, pulling down his underwear and kneeling in front of him. "You did deduce that this was the next step in my plan, correct?" she said, taking his cock into her hands. It was uncut and slightly darker, with a size that matched his frame. She started kissing and then licking it, tasting it and getting it wet.

"Good plan," he admitted distractedly as she wrapped her mouth around his shaft and started moving her mouth. Now it was his turn to start moaning. She grabbed his thighs to control her access and calibrated one deep lunge before settling into shorter, tighter strokes. She lapped with her tongue as her mouth moved, and he encouraged her by running his fingers through her hair. She moved deliberately at first, then gradually increased her speed. She eagerly pulled and grabbed at his thighs as she sucked him, as if she couldn't ever get enough. He gently pulled her hair as she intensified and he could feel himself tighten in anticipation of surrendering to orgasm. Which made it all the more abrupt when she stopped, holding his cock in her mouth without moving, pressing down his thighs to stop him cold.

"Wh.. why?!" he asked, breathless from the sudden denial.

She slowly pulled away. "Now, now, you're telling me you didn't see that coming? After you predicted it?" she asked before reaching over to start rifling through her purse.

"I'll be sure not to underestimate your wiles again," he replied, doing his best to manage his excitement.

Roxie finally fished out a condom package and rapped him lightly on the nose with it. "I'm not going to apologize for wanting to ride you so badly. Now," she said as she unwrapped the bright blue condom and placed it over his tip, "help me with this, please."

He eagerly helped her roll the condom down over his cock, treating himself a few strokes in anticipation. Roxie positioned herself first back on his lap, with his cock rubbing against her clit, rubbing against him to get herself wet again. Then she lifted herself back up, positioning the tip of his cock against her. He helped steady her as she used her hands to help guide him in deeper, and they gasped together as he entered her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, and he took a moment to just enjoy the tightness of her embrace from every possible angle. Then he started moving against her, holding her hips to help her move in rhythm.

Their rhythm started slow and exploratory, then slowly gained in speed until they were going fast and steady. He kissed her breasts and pressed his face against her slick chest, enjoying the sensation of her bouncing up and down against him. Roxie's hair dampened and stuck against her, her makeup smudged, and her breath grew heavy. She smelled and tasted amazing.

"I want you…" he started.

"Yes?" she asked between ragged breaths.

"..to touch yourself," he directed. "I'll help more," he said. She obeyed, licking her fingers and strumming her clit to match their movements. Bernard grabbed her hips with more strength, moving them to keep in synch. He had to work for each thrust, and she had to rub herself fast enough to keep up, but it was this wild, intense ride that he never wanted to stop.

Then her movements grew more desperate, and he responded in kind, pulling himself in deeper, harder and faster. He abandoned kisses so that he might catch the moment when it happened. Her orgasm was wet and warm, her muscles pulling him in deeper, and her mouth gasping in deep moans as her face flushed. Watching her was enough to send him over the edge as he succumbed to his own waves of intense pleasure, burying himself as deeply into her as possible. It was perfect.

The glow lingered, and together they collapsed into a sweaty, triumphant embrace against the small chair. And for a few wordless moments, they just sat there together in a deep, connected embrace.

Finally, Roxie stirred, giving him a small kiss before pulling herself up to collect her garments. Bernard followed her lead by straightening himself and removing, then tying the condom. He coughed a polite warning before calling out, "Brainbots," then a bit louder, "Brainbots!" to summon a swarm. "Um," he ordered hesitantly, "Daddy did promise you something for the incinerator," he said, tossing them the condom. They barked in delight, carrying out the trash. And with a flash of light and a roar of distant flames, the cleanup was taken care of.

"Hot," snorted Roxanne as she re-hooked her bra.

Bernard nodded in agreement, reaching for his own clothes, "I do keep it stoked."

Roxanne rolled her makeup-smudged eyes and sat back down in her own chair. "You know, uh, Bernard, I enjoyed this chance to catch up," she said, "but mind if I get my Megs back?"

Fuck. He had wasted his time as Bernard on having mind-blowing sex, the short-sighted fool. If he did want to have the original conversation, now he'd have to reveal himself, one way or another. Well, this is what heroes claimed made them strong, right? Revealing yourself? Being vulnerable? Jeez, what nonsense. But Bernard would go through with it.

"Well," he winced as he put some of his own clothes back on. "When I was saying that I wanted to get back into the mindset of that night, I was thinking about something else, actually." His hands gestured in circles as his words floundered.

Roxanne blinked in surprise, but to her credit, jumped to offer him help. "Hey, Bernard," she said, doing her best to follow his vague lead, "you and I, we're a team, and I'm here for whatever you need. So, what's the problem? Together we'll solve it."

He looked at her: mussed-up makeup, frazzled hair, sweaty and half-naked, and yet willing to lend him all the confidence and help to him. She's the real hero.

He took a deep breath and felt his voice relaxing into the hushed, breathy calm of Bernard. "Okay, so, you were really good at identifying Hal's weird initial villainy, and then his even weirder and scarier descent into super villainy." He sighed, lowering his eyes, "But the night you were telling me all that, I just wasn't listening."

She nodded her head in obvious agreement, but waited patiently for him to continue. Oh man, did he really have to do this all himself? No banter? Not even an 'I-told-you-so?' He much preferred the banter. But he dragged himself along.

"You were a good moral compass, and I should have trusted you then," he admitted, "I need to ask you to be my moral compass again now. I'm worried about how to do the right thing."

Roxanne reached out and laid a calming hand against his shoulder, "Well, being worried and coming to me are both good signs that you're still a solid hero, but if you want me to be your compass, you've gotta give specifics. You know about the five W's, right?"

Bernard buried his face in his open palm. "Here it is," he said, "I arrested a cop tonight. A villainous cop!" he quickly clarified, "I arrested him, but was tempted to do something more… vigilante-ish?" He scrambled to add context. "As a child, I learned one set of values, and then when I became a hero, I threw those all out. But now… it just feels maybe I shouldn't have, but I'm just not sure?"

Roxanne's hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, "Hey, that's actually a really good instinct." She gave conciliatory shrug, "And I mean, morality is complicated. But let's chase this lede. What specifically were you tempted to do? And please don't say 'take over the city again,' because that one is definitely wrong, no question."

Even roleplaying as Bernard, he was struggling to cough up his emotions. It was… weird, poking at the parts of himself that even he didn't understand fully. "I don't know that I was tempted to do anything specific, I just felt like, a normal arrest wasn't going to cut it. What if he's friends with the warden? What if the prosecutors go easy on him? What if the judge gives him leniency?" He slumped into his elbows on the table. "It's just too many what-ifs."

Roxanne sighed and took her time responding, "Sometimes villains dress themselves up like heroes to get away with it. And the system right now, definitely lets them get away with it. So, I get the instinct to want to bypass the system."

Bernard raised his face in surprise, "Wait, so, you're giving me a 'yes' to going more vigilante?"

Roxanne's face scrunched in concern. "Well, stopping him was definitely good," she said, "Circumventing a corrupt system, that's good too. I do that all the time." Bernard blinked in surprise. What? She held his hands reassuringly, "But vigilante justice is what those kinds of cops think they're doing, and it's a dangerous path to go down."

Okay, so he had, of course, expected an anti-vigilante stance, but he hadn't expected her to encourage other circumvents, much less admit to using them herself. He mused on her revelation aloud, "Of course. You report on corruption. You blow whistles. You name names." He looked her straight in the eyes, "Would you do that for entrenched villains? Masters of the system?"

She drew out a shrug. "I've tried," she sighed. "I did have a few tips for a story on government corruption, but the trail went cold when the anonymous sources clammed up."

Bernard spoke slowly and pointedly, "What if I could get you all the sources you needed?"

Roxanne's face tilted, intrigued, "But how would you?"

"Brainbots!" he yelled so suddenly that it startled Roxanne.

"Fuck! Damn it!" she cursed, causing the summoned swarm to back away anxiously. "Oh, not you brainbots. You're, uh, wonderful," she apologized. One rubbed up against her in appreciation and she reciprocated by petting its protective glass case.

"Brainbots," Bernard called to recaptured their focus. "Bring me those papers Minion was organizing earlier," and as the swarm rushed to obey, he clarified, "And DO NOT incinerate them!"

"What… papers?" she asked, but even as she was halfway through the question, her eyes lit up with understanding. "You… you made copies of everything in City Hall after you took it over."

Bernard chortled, "Oh, ho ho ho." He did his best to gloat casually. "Every email, text, and lunch receipt. Never know when a politician's paper trail is going to come in handy."

Roxanne shook her head, "That's everything I could ever need. Well," she paused, "except for one thing." She looked into his eyes and reached towards his watch. "If we're going to orchestrate a massive exposé of this city's scum while also protecting the innocent? I think I'm going to need a real genius." She grinned.

With a flick of the watch settings, Bernard's kind and thoughtful smile transformed into Megamind's determined and devious smirk.

He stood up and grabbed her. "Let's show them how true heroes protect this town."


End file.
